


desert flowers

by aluinihi



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Cutesy, Drabble, Fluff, Inspired by Art, M/M, Pre-Canon, pre-Ishval i guess pls tell me they were at least FRIENDS
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aluinihi/pseuds/aluinihi
Summary: Zolf kissed Roy again; a short, teasing little thing before leaning back with a grin. "Besides, being a good boy all the time makes you look like a nerd. Is that why you don't have many friends? Maybe you should reconsider your entire sense of self."
Relationships: Zolf J. Kimblee/Roy Mustang
Kudos: 6





	desert flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Oh my god, I thought I was a RoyEd-only but then... this happened. [@KimbleeFucker](https://twitter.com/KimbleeFucker) opened my eyes to this ship, then posted [this beautiful art](https://twitter.com/KimbleeFucker/status/1352745492741029890), and now I have a bunch of notes for a pre-canon story that is probs never going to be written lol. Anyway, I admit I don't have a good grasp on Kimblee's personality, so this might be very OOC.

They were too far in the East, enough so that the hair was as dry as a pile of hay. Roy's gloves weren't helping either, yet he couldn't bring himself to take them off — he wanted to, he really did, but they were stitched onto his hands like a second skin, glued to his palms by a sheen of sweat. For the fourth time, he tried parting the hair the way it should be, but his fingers switched course, ignoring his orders, and twirled the strands like they were glossy satin ribbons.

Zolf looked at him from over his shoulder. "Did you forget how to braid hair, _major_?"

Roy rolled his eyes. "It's drier than the ground here," he said flippantly, "I don't think I can braid it without ripping it off your head."

A laugh, loud and whole-hearted, reached Roy's ears and he let go of Zolf's hair as if burned.

"Sorry, pal." Zolf shrugged. "I even thought of bringing the hair care products but it's not like we'll have a lot of time to ourselves. My moisturizing routine is all the way back in Central, abandoned in my shower stall… I miss it more than you do, I'll tell you that." He lied on his back, head rested on a small bush of tiny desert flowers like a pillow. Looking up at Roy, he grinned. "But soon enough we'll be too busy to notice such tiny details! Tomorrow's the big day, isn't it? We're finally reaching the frontline of the Eastern rebellion."

"You make it sound like it's a joyful occasion."

Zolf laughed. "It's not, it's not! Don't look at me like that!" Laughed, laughed, laughed. "I promise you; there is no _joy_ in following orders, especially stupid ones."

He sat up suddenly, grinning at Roy. A hand, covered in the dusty earth of the Eastern ground, cupped Roy's cheek. Roy leaned into it — unthinking, unconsciously. Zolf leaned in until his nose brushed against Roy's, until he could whisper right on his lips. "Which is why we shouldn't follow them."

Roy's heart sunk. He shivered, feeling the feather-light pressure of lips speaking words as heavy as an anvil. Roy closed the remaining distance, put a hand on the back of Zolf's head so he could twist it into the right position, and kissed him — prying Zolf's lips open so he could deepen it, hear the soft, pleased exhale when their tongues slid together.

And then, he pulled away.

"I… we can't."

Shaking his head, Zolf chuckled. "You know what's the matter with you?" he said. "You are just too good. Too nice. One day you'll see that in certain situations, being _bad_ is the best thing someone like you can do."

He kissed Roy again; a short, teasing little thing before leaning back with a grin. "Besides, being a good boy all the time makes you look like a nerd. Is that why you don't have many friends? Maybe you should reconsider your entire sense of self."

Roy was going to retort. He had friends. He wasn't a good boy. And an alchemist calling another alchemist a nerd — _pot meet kettle_. And Zolf didn't have any high ground to speak so condescendingly to the only person with whom he could maintain a peaceful relationship.

But Roy's attention was stolen by Zolf's hair again. Those dark strands, messy from the awkward way they had tangled in the bush, and now decorated with tiny pink flowers.

It was his turn to laugh — because a man like Zolf Kimblee was simply not the kind to wear flowers in his hair — and then laugh some more because of how mortified Zolf looked when he was being laughed at.

"Fix it," he demanded, once again sitting with his back to Roy. "Or better yet, stop being a wuss and braid it already, you've done it before. You can keep the flowers but not the gloves, they are all sweaty and cloth and hair don't work well together."

"Yes, _your highness_ ," Roy replied, which got him a chuckle and another grin.

He grabbed a handful of hair and put himself to work on the knots and flowers and dry leaves.

"I said _gloves off!_ "

Roy made a point of detangling a knot with a hard tug before complying. 

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, here is [the marvelous art](https://twitter.com/KimbleeFucker/status/1352745492741029890) that inspired me to write this (Ｔ▽Ｔ) I have so many feelings...
> 
> Also, hit me up on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/aluinihi)!


End file.
